


3 Tips for A Cute Stomach

by PumpkinDoodles



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy and the Happiness Project, General fluff, No Plot, Very fluffy, silliness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22915729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: 1. look at ur tummy2. say “wow this is a cute tummy”3. congratulations u have a cute tummyDarcy and the Workplace Happiness Project
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 352
Kudos: 671





	1. The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing! I wrote this for @winchesterxgirl on tumblr and realized it wasn't on A03, so here we are.

**_3 TIPS FOR A CUTE STOMACH_ **

  1. look at ur tummy
  2. say “wow this is a cute tummy”
  3. congratulations u have a cute tummy



  
  


“I’m doing it, Jane,” Darcy said, clicking delete on the latest workplace email encouraging them to participate in SHIELD’s new workplace fitness initiative. Darcy was beginning to feel attacked by the stringent tones of the emails, likely copied from their insurer. She felt scolded.

“Doing what?” Jane said, not looking up. She was measuring deviations in readouts or something something science that Darcy didn’t entirely understand but wholeheartedly supported.

“Countercultural programming,” Darcy said, grinning to herself. “Where did I put those sheets of neon paper?”

“Are you getting in trouble?” Jane asked.

“Only if I get caught,” Darcy said.

“Well, don’t get caught,” Jane told her. Darcy nodded. If flyers started appearing all over the facility, ostensibly with the logo of the Health and Wellness program, but with “Tips for A Cute Stomach” that seemed decidedly atypical, well….

She never got caught. Much.

* * *

“Hey, Darce,” Cameron Klein said to her in the breakroom a week later, “you have any tips for cute biceps? I’ve been doing that stomach thing.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Darcy told him, turning with a grin. “One, flex your arm--great job! Two, look at your bicep, and wow, you have amazing biceps, Cam,” she said. Cameron poked at one blue-sleeved arm.

“Huh,” he said. “You can tell all that from under my dress shirt?”

“Sure can,” Darcy said. 

She left the break room buzzing with happiness. “Here you go,” Darcy told Jane, setting down her coffee. “Also, my nefarious plan to undermine Trident Health is totally working.”

“Good,” Jane said. “Who?” Darcy laughed. 

“I just get a little spark whenever I make someone happy,” Darcy said musingly. “It just feels right. How do I do more of that?”

“Why not do one of those happiness projects?” Jane said. 

“What’s that?” Darcy said. 

“You just decide to do things that make you more happy,” Jane said, keying in a laptop command. “It’s good for personal enrichment.”

“Jane Meredith Foster, did you just say something humanities-related?”

“I read  _ Oprah  _ magazine sometimes,” Jane said.

“When?” Darcy said, opening her mouth wide in mock-astonishment.

“I was at my doctor’s office and my phone died, so I couldn’t check my lab app,” she admitted. Darcy giggled. “I’m serious, though,” Jane said. “It seems like a you thing?”

“Okay,” Darcy said. “I shall Google, Janeybug.”


	2. I Love You & I'm Not Kitten Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_ Activity #12. Capacity to Love and be Loved _

  1. _Tell boyfriend/girlfriend/sibling/parent that you love them_
  2. _Send a loved one a card or e-card to say that you were thinking about him/her._
  3. _Give loved ones a big hug and a kiss_
  4. _Write a nice note where someone you love will find it sometime during the day. Do this in a new place, or for a new person, every day._



  
  


“What are you doing?” Jane said, peering over at Darcy. She had paper and glitter next to her laptop on the coffee table and her scissors.

“Making ‘I love you’ cards,” Darcy said. “It’s a happiness project thing.”

“Uh-huh,” Jane said. 

“You had a good idea and I love you,” Darcy told her. “That’s your card.” She pointed with her glitter pen to a paper card with little 3D stars on the front. Jane opened it. 

“What do two black holes talk about?” Jane read aloud. “Dark matters?” She snorted. At the bottom, Darcy had written,  _ thank you for giving me a job. I forgive you for not paying me for two years, too.  _ Jane grinned. “You’re forgiving me?”

“Forgiveness is part of my project,” Darcy said. “It’s activity nineeteen.”

“Thank you for your forgiveness and your dad joke,” Jane said, grinning. “Who else are you doing cards for?”

“Thor, Nat, Clint, Captain Steve-O, lots of people. I have a list,” Darcy said. “This is a year long project, it’s a long list.”

  
  


* * *

“Sir?” Maria Hill said. Fury looked up from his laptop. It was making an odd sound. “Is everything all right?” she asked. “What is that noise?”

“For reasons that I don’t understand, Foster’s assistant has sent me an ‘I love you’ e-card and signed me up for a kitten of the day email, Hill,” he said. She leaned around to look at his screen. 

“She’s not kitten around?” Hill said, letting her mouth curve up. 

“Yes,” Fury said. He paused. “This isn’t something I need to, uh, be concerned about it? That she’s showing an...unusual interest?”

“Oh, no,” Hill said. “It’s probably her happiness project. She’s been leaving everyone cards.”

“So, everybody’s getting one?” Fury said, looking relieved. “And a kitten of the day?”

“Oh, no, they’re all personalized. She signed up Rogers for a Spotify playlist of Big Band music. From the forties.”

“Uh-huh,” Fury said. 

Maria noticed that he watched the kitten of the day clip, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The activities are from Gretchen Rubin's website. I love her! https://gretchenrubin.com/2009/04/want-to-feel-happier-a-menu-of-resolutions/


	3. A Little Sparkle Would Be Swell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing! Yeah, this is just some low/no-stakes sweetness.

_Activity #20: Appreciation of Beauty and Excellence  
  
_ _Find something that makes you happy, in aesthetics or value, a physical activity or an object, and let it inspire you throughout the day._

  
  


“What are you doing?” Jane said, peering over at Darcy. She had a mirror next to her laptop on the couch. She was frowning at the screen.

“Happiness project thing,” Darcy said, rewinding the Youtube video. “I’m teaching myself how to put in hair tinsel.” She threaded a strand of sparkling tinsel through her hair. “It’s just...difficult! Ah! It snapped. Boo.”

“Well, you’ve got a lot,” Jane said, looking at the bundle of multicolor tinsel. It was several inches thick.

“I thought maybe I could learn to do this,” Darcy said, “one, because it looks cool, and two, because people are always doing it for fundraisers. What if I could do these for people?”

“Be the hair fairy?” Jane said.

“Yes,” Darcy said, lighting up. “I totally want to be the hair fairy, that sounds like a dream job. I bet Tony could have me do these at some event--if I can figure them out.” She frowned critically at her reflection. “I just wish I wasn’t such a klutz.”

“Keep practicing,” Jane said. “I’m running to the library. Do you have any books on hold?”

“Hmmm,” Darcy said. She looked thoughtful. “I mean, yes. I totally have something waiting, I think?” She dug around in her purse and handed Jane a card. “I’ll order Chinese, unless you want me to wait until you get back?” They lived near a library branch; it was one of Jane’s moving criteria.

“Oh, no, go ahead and get me kung pao and wontons,” Jane said.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Jane returned to find Chinese food in the kitchen and Bucky Barnes sitting on her couch. “Hi,” Jane said. They barely knew Barnes. Or she didn’t--but Darcy must, because she was running her hands through the ex-Winter Soldier’s long hair.

“Hello,” Bucky said. He smiled gently. Jane realized she'd never seen him look so relaxed. He was usually pretty quiet. But now he was cross-legged on her sofa, Chinese food box in one hand. Darcy was sitting behind him.

“Jane! I got you wontons and stuff,” Darcy said excitedly, as Jane locked the door and dropped her bags. “The Buckaroo volunteered to be my practice person for hair tinsel.”

“You’re letting her put tinsel in your hair?” Jane said, grinning. "Buckaroo?"

“It seemed...festive?” Bucky said. “And, uh--”

“I made sad faces at him on video chat, he’s a secret softy,” Darcy announced, pinning up a section of Bucky’s hair with a clip. “He can’t stand to disappoint a lady.”

“Don’t tell anybody,” Bucky said, expression wry.

“Your secret’s safe with us,” Jane vowed. Then she looked at Darcy. “You’re a lady?” she said. Bucky chuckled, then laughed outright when Darcy sassed Jane back.

“God, no! Who wants to be a lady?” she said. “Boring! I’m going to be the hair fairy, bitches. Do you want red, blue, and silver?” she asked Bucky.

“Steve’ll make jokes,” Bucky said, but he looked fond. "Tony'll definitely make jokes."

“We could always do just blue,” she said. "Besides, Tony just has hair flip envy or something," she said. Bucky smiled.

"You think so?" he said.

"Yes," Darcy insisted. "He definitely wishes he had your hair." He nodded at her firm voice, then grinned at Jane. Jane found herself grinning back. “This is going to be so pretty!” Darcy announced, clicking the laptop again.

A woman’s voice described the process: _“Make a loop and then…”_

“A loop,” Bucky repeated, eating a noodle with chopsticks.

“A loop, a loop, a loop,” Darcy singsonged. Jane laughed. 

“You’re giddy,” she told Darcy. Darcy looked mildly offended.

“Tell me your idea of a better night than library books, Chinese, and Bucky helping us with hair tinsel?” Darcy asked.

“You’re easy to please, aren’t you, doll?” Bucky said in a warm, amused voice. He smiled at Jane.

“The secret to happiness is joy in lots of little things, Buckaroo,” Darcy told him firmly. “Ah ha! Success!” 

“You did it!” Jane said.

“Look,” Darcy told Bucky, holding up a mirror so he could see the blue strand glinting in his hair.

“That’s swell,” Bucky said.

“We’re gonna do a bunch more,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what does hair tinsel look like? like this!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQRoNt6xd7c
> 
> activities inspiration is all from this list: https://gretchenrubin.com/2009/04/want-to-feel-happier-a-menu-of-resolutions/


	4. Hug More, Kiss More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_5\. Social Intelligence_  
_a. Meet one new person each day by approaching them_  
_b. Go into a social situation in which you would normally feel uncomfortable and try to fit in_  
_c. Whenever you talk with someone, try to figure out what his or her motives and concerns are._  
_d. Encounter someone by themselves and by being friendly, include them in your group_

“What’s wrong?” Jane asked Darcy. They were attending a birthday dinner for one of their new SHIELD coworkers, Sharon Carter. Darcy had stopped on the sidewalk outside the restaurant as they walked up, nervously fidgeting with her messenger.

“Um, you know how I feel about new people?” Darcy said. “Especially new SHIELD people.” She felt hella awkward when it came to socializing with larger groups of people she didn’t know well. One person? Fine. Two people? Good. Three people? Fine. But ten or fifteen new people, all just _looking at you?_ Yuck. It was more nerve-wracking because people at SHIELD were so serious. She missed the weird astrophysicists in sandals that Erik used to bring over. 

“What would Gretchen Rubin say?” Jane bartered.

“Damn you,” Darcy grumbled. She knew perfectly well what Gretchen Rubin would say: that it was good to challenge yourself, to be more social. They went inside. “But don’t leave me,” she told Jane.

“You could try that hugging thing you were telling Bucky about,” Jane said neutrally.

“Oh God,” Darcy said. “Can’t I just pay for someone’s beer instead?” she asked, as they spotted the group in the back of the restaurant. 

“Look, there’s Clint,” Jane said. “You like Clint. Go hug him.”

“Fine,” Darcy said. “I’ll hug Clint.” They greeted the group and Darcy immediately felt nervous. They were circulating in the back room, not eating yet. Everyone was watching her. She chirped out a hi and a double wave, feeling stupid, and then beelined for Clint. “Hey,” she repeated, then hugged him quickly. Too quickly.

“Hi, Darce,” he said. He was laughing at her panicked expression. “Something wrong?”

“Jane’s making me hug people,” Darcy said quickly. Clint’s eyes gleamed.

“Oh, yeah?” he said. He half-turned with her in his arms and then yelled, “Rollins, hug Darcy!” 

“Huh?” a male voice said, catching her. Darcy was in the arms of an extremely tall dude. 

“Hi,” she said, craning her head up. A frowning, fearsome-looking guy stared down at her. He had a scar across his face and very pretty eyes. 

“She’s hugging people,” Clint cracked, behind her. 

“It’s part of my happiness project,” Darcy said, balanced enough to slide her arms away. “It’s supposed to be good for you.”

“Yeah?” Tall Guy said. 

“This is Jack Rollins,” Clint explained. “He infilitrated HYDRA.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “That’s, um, good, uh, work?” He nodded, then gave her a feral smile.

“Thank you,” he said. His accent was Australian. “That was a nice thing. The hug,” he added, patting her shoulder awkwardly. 

“You’re welcome?” Darcy said tentatively. His expression was really homicidal, despite the pat. It was confusing. When he stepped away, she glared at Clint. “You louse!” she said. “You practically yeeted me!”

“I’m just helping you with your project, Darce,” he said, pretending to be offended. “He said it was nice. C’mon,” he added. “The HYDRA infilitrators need hugs, too. People are scared of ‘em.”

“No kidding, he looks like a murder tree,” Darcy said. That made Clint laugh so hard, he almost choked on his beer. 

* * *

Clint dragged her around, making Darcy hug everybody before dinner: Sharon (very polite), Steve (same), Bucky (she got a sweet cheek kiss and joked she’s never wash her face again), Sam (even bigger kiss, trying to out-flirt Bucky), Natasha (oddly pleased), her date, Bruce Banner (he blushed). Darcy had hugged nearly everyone, even Cameron Klein twice (laughter and blushing, she loved it), when she made her way back to the angry Aussie, who was standing with someone else she didn’t know. A heavily-scarred, dark-haired guy. “Hi,” Darcy repeated, smiling. 

“Hey, Rumlow,” Clint said, said, “Darcy’s hugging people. Come get a hug?”

“What?” the guy said, looking suspicious. Like he was afraid Clint was tricking him. Darcy thought Clint was enjoying this way too much, but there was no way she was going to snub someone with visible injuries. She wasn’t a jerk. Darcy went up to him, smiling tentatively. 

“Would you like a hug?” she offered. He stared; Rollins nudged him. 

“She don’t bite, mate,” he said.

“Fucking seriously?” Rumlow said, frowning so his scars twisted.

“I hugged him already,” Darcy said, realizing that she sounded nervous, like she was scared of him. She tried to smile wider.

“Fine,” he bit out, “hug me.” She stepped forward, then slipped her arms around him for a sec. “What the fuck are you doing this for?” he said, going tense at her touch. Like she was a threat. 

“Um, I’m doing a happiness thing, a happiness project,” Darcy explained, very much not staring at his facial scars. She kept her eyes level with a scar-laced bicep and tried to think non-threatening, small person thoughts. “If you hug people for longer than six seconds, you get a boost of dopamine. Frequent huggers have lower blood pressure, too,” she added. “Warm greetings and farewells make people feel better,” she said. He relaxed slightly.

“Yeah?” he said, voice arch.

“They’ve done studies!” she chirped. “Hugging people when you arrive or leave is good for you, and, uh...kissing. Kissing is good for you. Hug more, kiss more, that’s an actual recommendation. Gretchen Rubin scheduled in kissing her husband,” she said, “but she also clerked for Sandra Day O’Connor, so she’s very organized. I’m not that organized. Or married. I don’t have a husband. So, even if I was that organized, I couldn’t schedule that.” When she got nervous, Darcy got quiet. Or she babbled. Now she was doing the hugging equivalent, she realized. She didn’t even know this guy! She glanced up. He was looking at her with a kind of strange head tilt. At his quizzical look, she said, “Gretchen Rubin is the woman who wrote _The Happiness Project?_ She went to Yale Law School. Her book sort of inspired this thing I’m doing. There’s this whole Ben Franklin quote about human happiness being made of little things that occur every day, you know?” He nodded. “Anyway, uh, I think that was more than six seconds, right?” she said.

“I wasn’t keeping count,” he said wryly. “Next hug, I’ll time you.”

* * *

All throughout dinner, Darcy tried to be bubbly and friendly, too. It was challenging: she worried people thought she was insane. “Nobody thinks you’re insane, people like you,” Jane said, when she expressed her fears on the way home. “Even those scary fake HYDRA agents.”

“God, they were scary, right?” Darcy said. “That wasn’t just me?”

“Clint said they make people nervous, but they’re actually clean. They were feeding information to Fury and helped Steve, Sam, and Nat escape with Maria in 2014,” Jane explained. “They got her into a van or something? And they let Bucky go. That one guy survived the building collapse because he’d been dosed with HYDRA serums and they had to dig him out. Rollins got out with Nat on the helicopter.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Rumlow was in the building?” 

“Yup,” Jane said. The HYDRA Uprising thing was a big mystery at SHIELD. No one wanted to talk about it at work, so all she and Jane knew was gleaned from the news and occasional snippets of gossip. Darcy certainly wasn’t going to ask Bucky about it. It was none of her business, really. “He looked scared when you hugged him,” Jane joked.

“Shut up,” Darcy said. “I blame Clint.”


	5. Honey Roast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_Activity #4: Creativity, ingenuity and originality_

_Keep a journal, work on a picture or poem_

_Submit a piece to a literary magazine or newspaper_

_Decorate a notebook or your room_

  
  


“Hmmm,” Darcy said, sticking out her tongue as she rearranged pieces of magazine paper and ephemera on her collage board. “What do you think of my placement? Are my fortune cookie slips okay?” She looked over at Jane. It was Saturday, but Jane had hunkered down at home to work on a new idea, so Darcy was trying an art project. She’d signed up for an online class making mandala-themed collages. 

“You’re putting on fortune cookie slips?” Jane said, from her end of the couch.

“Yup,” Darcy said, stirring the ModPodge she’d mixed with water. “My teacher says to do the corners first, so I’m planning my first layer before I glue.” The scientist leaned over to look at the pieces of slick and matte paper that Darcy had arranged on the board.

“I like it,” she said. “Those purples and teals are nice.”

“Even the fortune cookies?” Darcy asked, pointing to the slips she’d stuck in a top corner.

“You can open doors with your charm and patience?” Jane read aloud. Her eyebrows went up. “What does that mean?”

“No idea--that I have trouble opening doors with my actual hands?” Darcy snarked. Jane’s smile widened.

“Oh my God, I forgot about that time you used lotion in the bathroom of that fancy English restaurant Ian took you to and then you couldn’t get out of the ladies’ room!” Jane said, laughing.

“Thank God that woman who needed to pee saved me,” Darcy said, shaking her head at the memory of a too-slick antique door handle. “But at least I didn’t have toilet paper stuck to my foot that time. Maybe I should skip that and just do book pages from my old French work book as a first layer,” Darcy said, scrunching her nose.

“Don’t overthink it. Use the fortunes. You just have trouble with really snooty restaurants,” Jane said. She patted Darcy’s shoulder reassuringly. 

“Do you want to go outside?” Darcy asked. Jane loved outside.

“Sure,” Jane said, beginning to gather her tablet, notes, and books. Suddenly, she looked at Darcy in alarm. “Since when do you want to go outside?” she asked. “You hate outside!”

“I’m varying my environment for creativity purposes,” Darcy said, frowning at her magazine pages. She sighed. “There are too many ads in magazines now and they’re all ugly,” she added. 

“Outside will make it better,” Jane announced.

They traipsed outside, making multiple trips for all their stuff. It was sunny out. And windy. Darcy had to chase a few pieces of paper across the apartment’s lawn and came back grumpy, plopping heavily in the grass. Jane didn’t seem to notice. She scribbled in her notebook as Darcy did her first layer of ModPodge. “That looks pretty,” Jane said, suddenly peering over.

“Thank you,” Darcy said. She sat on the ground, gazed at her half-completed canvas, then brushed bits of dried grass off the edges. She frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Jane asked.

“I still hate outside,” Darcy admitted, squinting in the sunlight. Jane burst out laughing. “Why did people always like going outside in high school and college?” Darcy asked. “I never got that.”

“Some of us like outside,” Jane said, tilting her chin up. “I’m an outside person,” she added. Darcy thought she was rubbing it in.

“Shut up, I’ve saved you from like, three snakes in New Mexico, oncoming traffic in London, and sidewalk ice in Norway,” Darcy grumbled. “Outside person.” She looked at the sky. “I think I need to broaden out my happiness project ideas, you know?”

“Sure,” Jane said. “Why not?”

* * *

Darcy was letting her collage dry and Netflixing on the couch when she had an idea. “Jane!” she yelled, “honey roast!”

“What?” Jane said, visibly startled. 

“Oh, sorry,” Darcy said. “I was watching _New Girl._ They give Winston a honey roast in this episode.” At Jane’s baffled expression, she explained, “it’s like a roast, but all compliments and positive things. I want to do that for people.”

“Nicely roast them?” Jane said.

“Yes,” Darcy said, “like, if I was honey roasting you, I could say that you are remarkably not vain, especially with your face--”

“My face?” Jane said, frowning.

“Hellloooo, you have the face of a Disney princess or a ballerina. Your bones are great. And your hair’s fantastic, but you’re not even egostical about it,” Darcy said. Jane blushed.

“Oh,” she said. “Thank you.” She patted her hair. “My hair’s nice?”

“It’s super,” Darcy insisted. “And you’ve got mega brains underneath, too.” Jane nodded; she was perfectly aware of her brains, even if she didn’t seem to realize how pretty she was.

* * *

Darcy carried on honey roasting people at work, even during her coffee run. “Cameron Klein,” she announced, joining him on the elevator with a hug, “you have the cutest smile and I appreciate your commitment to animals.” She knew Cam was fostering a rescue dog.

“Um, thank you?” he said, blushing.

“Ahhh! And you blush so adorably. Wait, I want a picture,” Darcy said. “Don’t move!” She snapped a photo with her phone as the elevator opened. Steve Rogers was standing on the other side of the metal doors.

“Whatcha doing?” he said, eyebrows rising.

“Telling Cam how adorable he is,” Darcy said. “Steve, I loved your beard when you had one. You’re the only man I know who looks equally dashing clean shaven or bearded,” Darcy said. “Also, I admire your commitment to Nazi eradication and promoting healthcare and vaccination.” Steve had caused a small media sensation by being open at a press conference. People were surprised that he was pro-vaccination and universal healthcare, but hellloooo, his mother had been a nurse and he’d grown up with polio, Darcy thought.

“Oh,” Steve said, looking slightly taken back. "Thank you."

“She’s complimenting everyone, Cap,” Cam said.

“Yeah?” Steve said. “Do I still get a hug?” His smile turned bright.

“Of course!” Darcy said. She hugged Steve and he swung her a little. When he sat her down, Darcy could feel herself beaming back. “Thank you,” she said. Then she realized something. “Steve, hug Cam, too!” she ordered.

“Uh,” Cam said, blushing.

“Come on,” Darcy said. 

“I gotta give you a hug, Cam,” Steve said. He held out his arms and Cam blushingly accepted a hug--and his own little swing. 

When he and Darcy got off on the same floor, Cam looked at her in a daze. “That--that was the most amazing thing that ever happened to me,” he said. “Captain America lifted me!” 

“High five!” Darcy said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who signed up for an online mandala painting workshop? It's really great, so if you're looking for an art project, I recommend it!  
> https://www.faithevanssills.com/layered-mandala-painting-workshop


	6. Lunch Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_Activity #3: Judgment, Critical Thinking and Open-Mindedness_

_Go to a multi-cultural group or event._

_Play devil’s advocate and discuss an issue from the side opposite to your personal views_

_Take a hall/suitemate out to lunch who is different from you in some way._

_Go to a different church or religious event_

_Every day, pick something you believe strongly, and think about how you might be wrong._

  
  


“Who can I ask to lunch?” Darcy said out loud. She’d scanned her online list of happiness activities again as she sat at her desk. It was almost lunchtime at SHIELD. 

“Hmm?” Jane said, tapping her tablet.

“I want to ask someone different from me out to lunch?” Darcy said. “With us,” she added, so Jane wouldn’t feel excluded or anything.

“Anyone around here?” Jane said, making a face. “Jackbooted thugs.” 

“I thought we’d moved past that particular phrase?” Darcy said, trying to hide her grin.

“I still say that it’s an accurate description of some of the people around here,” Jane said archly. That made Darcy laugh. 

“Okay, then,” she said. “Are my instructions to ask a jackbooted thug to lunch?” she asked.

“Sure,” Jane said. “Go find someone. I’m staying here.”

“Why?” Darcy said.

“Because I’ve almost got these numbers right,” Jane said, with a kind of focused grimness.

“But you need to eat!” Darcy insisted.

“I’ve got apples and yogurt in the mini fridge,” Jane said, hunching her shoulders. Darcy sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes on purpose.

“Are you just determined to neglect yourself when we have an entire cafeteria downstairs?” she asked Jane. “With actual food?”

“Yes,” Jane said. “Go to lunch.”

“Fine, fine,” Darcy grumbled. “However”--she gestured--”I would like to point out that you’re always encouraging me to get out of my comfort zone, but I can’t get you to---are you tuning me out?”

“Hmm?” Jane said, clearly tuning her out. 

“Fine, I’m going, I’m going,” Darcy said, grabbing her bag. She’d ask someone on the way down, she thought. If she could work up her nerve to ask someone. And bring Jane back actual food. Then stand over her while she ate the food. Probably. Someone needed to, Darcy reflected, as she went down the hall. She pressed the down button for the elevator.

The doors opened. “Hello,” that Rumlow guy said to her. Darcy smiled tentatively. His manner wasn’t exactly friendly. The scars didn’t scare her, but his body language--almost predatory--was intimidating.

“Hi,” she said hurriedly, stepping on. He moved to give her space. Then he tilted his head questioningly. 

“No hug?” he said wryly. She thought he might be teasing her. Darcy felt herself blush.

“If you want one?” she offered, holding her arms out. She was surprised when he stepped into them.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve gotta time you now, sweetheart,” he said, chin in her hair. He held onto her for what seemed like a long moment. His hand rubbed her back. He smelled really good, Darcy thought, her face against his scarred neck. Like cinnamon and spices. Warm. “Six seconds,” he said. She sighed as he let her go. “You okay?” he said.

“Yeah,” she said, feeling oddly self-conscious. It was just the two of them, Darcy realized, as the doors shut. An agent walking towards the elevator seemed to hesitate, instead of getting on. Rumlow frowned.

“Afraid,” Rumlow said in a low voice.

“What?” Darcy said, uncertain. Was he asking if she was afraid?

“You’re braver than Thompson,” Rumlow said. “He won’t even get on an elevator with me.”

“Oh. Well, it is a tiny enclosed space,” Darcy said. “And you’re known for fighting with Steve, so...” She let her voice trail off. He smirked then, scars twisting.

“What else am I known for?” he said, folding his hands over his waist. 

“Ummmm,” Darcy said, momentarily distracted by his bicep situation. Even burned, the man had great arms. 

“That’s all right,” he told her. “Wouldn’t want to put you on the spot.” He sighed. “Everybody thinks I’m still HYDRA, huh?”

“No, no,” Darcy said quickly. “I don’t think so.”

“No?” he said. He looked disbelieving. “You sure about that?”

“Yes. In fact, I, uh, think you smell nice and uh, I--would you have lunch with me?” Darcy asked, panicking slightly at the tension in the elevator. People at SHIELD seemed to tense whenever Nazis came up.

“You think I smell nice and you want to have lunch?” he said, looking surprised. 

“Yeah. I mean, if you want to? You eat lunch, right? Some people intermittent fast or whatever,” she babbled. She could feel the blush creeping up again. _God, why was she such an idiot around him?_ Rumlow looked at her. 

“I eat,” he said, smirking again. His scars looked especially ominous when he smiled like that. “When?” he said. “Now?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, nodding. “Yeah.” One word answers, she could do. Reasonably well, anyway.

“You’re new in town, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, wondering what the point of the question was. To her surprise, he hit a button on the elevator panel.

“I know a good place,” he said. “Downstairs is noisy and people stare.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling particularly dumb and tongue-tied. “I’m sorry,” she said. He raised his eyebrows.

“I meant at you, sweetheart,” he said, sounding amused. The look he gave her was especially sly. It was oddly...attractive?

“Oh God,” Darcy blurted out. “Stop that!” 

“What?” he said, as the elevator doors opened. “I upset you?” He frowned again. Darcy realized she’d sounded like she didn’t want him to tease her. Like she was rejecting him or something.

“No, no,” Darcy said. “I just--I’m having conversational awkwardness, okay? I don’t know what’s going on with my tongue...wait, no, forget I said that!” 

“Do I have to?” he said, as the elevator doors opened. Then he actually pouted at her--before he started laughing.

He was still laughing about her tongue as they ate. “It’s not that funny,” Darcy said defensively, poking at her ketchup with a french fry. Rumlow smiled.

“You sure about that?” he said. He’d been asking her questions about herself. Where they’d been, what she liked to do. And teasing her.

“It’s a little funny,” she admitted. He lit up a fraction. 

“She admits it,” he said, looking pleased with himself. “Are you always like this?”

“No,” Darcy said. “I survived Dark Elves! I’m a calm person. I don’t know why SHIELD people make me so nervous.”

“I thought you called us all thugs?” he asked, looking up from his plate at her.

“That’s Jane, not me,” Darcy clarified. “I know you’re not a thug.” He frowned and tilted his head.

“I’ve done some things that are thug-ish,” he said, doing a so-so gesture with his hand. “All for work,” he added. “My real life is kinda boring and shit”--he scrunched his nose--”I work, I go to the gym, I have a little wine, I sleep.”

“Yeah?” she said, finding the nose scrunch endearing. She’d almost said awwwww. _What is wrong with me,_ Darcy wondered.

“How do you feel about dinner?” he said suddenly. Her chin jerked up. He was looking at her closely.

“Are you asking me on a date?” Darcy asked.

“Actually, I was hoping I could get into your pants,” he said in a dry voice. “But I’m willing to feed you first.” In spite of herself, Darcy grinned. “That’s a yes, right?” he said, smirking. “At least nod, huh? Then we can talk about your tongue some more.”

“Oh my God,” Darcy said, covering her face with her hands. 

* * *

“Jane,” Darcy said as she walked into the lab. “I had lunch with Rumlow. And I think we’re going on a date? I have trouble talking to him, though. I keep embarrassing myself.”

“Huh?” Jane said.

“I just did what you told me to and asked him to lunch,” Darcy said. “I don’t know how I get in these situations.”

“What situations?” Jane said. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you ever listen to me?” Darcy whined, plopping down. “I have a date with Rumlow. He asked me to dinner. Also, he smells so good. I’m all discombobulated.” She sighed. “I need to double check and see if Gretchen Rubin says anything about dating.” She looked at Jane. "I asked him to lunch."

"But he wanted to have dinner instead?" Jane said, frowning in confusion.

"No, but yes?" Darcy said.  
  
"That makes absolutely no sense," Jane said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone requested more Rumlow, so here we are.


	7. Box of Sunshine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing! Note ratings change!

_Activity #11: Kindness and generosity_

_Leave a huge tip for a small check._

_Do a random act of kindness every day (a simple, small favor). Make it anonymous if possible._

_Be a listening ear to a friend. Ask them how their day was and actually listen to the answer before telling them about your own day._

_Send an e-card to a different friend each day._

_Pay the whole tab when you are out with friends._

Darcy had decided to make little surprise gifts for Jane and her mom. A random act of kindness, really. She’d seen photos of “Boxes of Sunshine” online, so she was hiding from Jane in her bedroom and glue-sticking sheets of yellow paper to the inside of a cardboard box. “Stay,” she told the paper seriously. “You’re an important part of Jane’s present.” The entire point of a box of sunshine was putting a bunch of inexpensive yellow-colored gifts inside, so the box had a bright, cheerful glow. She still needed to buy the things for Jane, but her mom’s box had been completed and mailed last night. Darcy had filled it with lemon cookies, a tiny painting of a daisy, and a butter yellow bottle of bubble bath. Jane was trickier to buy for than her mother--Jane didn’t like bath products. She was musing on what to do when her cell phone rang. She thought it was probably Jane, calling from the living room. “What’s kickin, little chicken?” Darcy said.

“Darcy?” a voice said. It was Rumlow.

“Hiiiiiiii,” she said, surprised. 

“Hey,” he said, then paused. Their date was in a few days. For a panicked moment, she thought he might be calling to cancel. 

“What’s wrong?” she blurted out.

“Nothing,” he said, “just wondered what you were doing?” 

“Oh,” Darcy said. She thought he sounded curious. “I’m making a present for Jane,” she whispered. “A sunshine box. But I need to go to the store.”

“What’s a sunshine box?” Rumlow asked.

“It’s yellow,” she said. “You decorate it and fill it with yellow presents. Hold on, I’ll text you the one I made my mom. I need more yellow stuff to put inside this one.” 

“You want help?” Rumlow asked.

* * *

He was leaning against a dark SUV when she pulled into a neighboring parking space. “Hi,” Darcy said, getting out of the car. “I can’t believe you want to do this with me,” she said, when he smiled at her. It made his scars twist slightly. She’d been figuring out that his smile wasn’t meant to be ominous. 

“Hey, we’re still going on the first date later,” he said. “This is just, uh--”

“An errand?” Darcy suggested. 

“A half date,” he amended.

“I like it,” Darcy said. As they crossed the parking lot, she reached over and took his hand on impulse. “There’s hand holding on a half date, right?” 

“Sure,” he said. She caught him smiling at her as they went inside. “So, what’s yellow?” Rumlow asked, grabbing a basket. They scanned the aisles of the brightly-lit store.

“Ummm,” Darcy thought out loud. “Cereal boxes, maybe?” 

“Okay,” he said, rubbing her thumb. That felt nice. His skin had an interesting texture. “Cheerios?” he suggested. 

“No sugar,” Darcy said sadly. She scanned the aisle. There were graham crackers in their blue boxes and-- “Ooooh, cookies! Jane loves cookies.”

“What are Nilla Wafers?” Rumlow said. He chuckled as she towed him towards the bright yellows.

“You’ve never had Nilla Wafers?” Darcy asked.

“No,” he said, holding the basket out for her. Darcy plopped in the cookies. 

“Oh, well, people put them in banana pudding, but they’re kind of bland alone. I could get her pudding, too. That’s a great idea. You’re a genius,” she told him.

“Did I do something?” Rumlow said, sounding baffled.

“You gave me the banana pudding idea,” Darcy said, smiling at him. She felt awfully tempted to kiss him next to the Oreos. So she did, stretching up on her toes to kiss him lightly. She’d closed her eyes, but she felt him smile against her mouth. 

“All because of pudding, huh?” he said, clearing his throat, when she pulled back. Darcy opened her eyes. He was giving her a smoldering look.

“Wow,” Darcy said. “That’s a good look on you.”

“Yeah?” he said, smirking. Darcy waited a beat. She was hoping he’d kiss her this time. Instead, he leaned down and brushed his mouth against her forehead gently. Darcy let herself snuggle against him. He always smelled really good, like cinnamon and warm spices. Musky. Peppery, she thought, inhaling. “Jane like those yellow Oreos?” he said suddenly.

“Probably, but I’m not done with this yet,” Darcy said, tightening her hold on him. She didn’t want to let go and sighed. “You smell so nice,” she told him. Rumlow laughed. 

“Duly noted,” he said. “Keep wearing this cologne, huh?”

“Yes,” she said. 

Darcy went a little wild on the candy aisle. There were tons of yellow candies: peanut M&Ms, lemon drops, caramels, even Sugar Babies and Butterfingers. She and Rumlow snuck the bags back into the apartment. “What are you doing?” Jane said, as they walked in.

“Half date,” Rumlow said.

“What’s a half date?” Jane called, as a giggling Darcy pulled Rumlow into her bedroom. “Is it something dirty?”

“Shut up!” Darcy yelled back. She turned back to Rumlow--and immediately frowned.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

“My room’s a mess!” she said. “I totally forgot.” Behind him, her bed was unmade and covered in craft supplies; the lights on her headboard were half out and there was laundry in her chair.

“So?” he said, looking amused and glancing over his shoulder and back again. He studied her. “Are you actually embarrassed?”

“A little,” she confessed. 

“Well, now I’ve got to snoop around while we do this,” he said, smirking. “Check your underwear drawer?” Darcy laughed. He helped her unpack the snacks first, then actually fixed her string lights.

“You’re amazing,” Darcy said, when she realized what he was doing.

“Eh, it’s a loose bulb, sweetheart,” he said, shrugging. He’d taken off his SHIELD jacket, so she could see all the scarred muscles of his arms as he sat on the edge of her bed, fiddling with the lights. He caught her glance. “My, uh, scars are--” he began.

“Part of the whole dangerous, hot guy thing you’ve going?” she said, grinning at him. He looked at her quizzically.

“Are you for real or did Thor’s crazy brother mess with your head?” he said teasingly. She swatted at him.

“Hey, no!” Darcy insisted. “No talking bad about yourself.”

“You’re going to stop me?” he said.

“I will force feed you Butterfingers!” she threatened. 

“Oh yeah? I wanna see you try,” he said, wagging a finger. He was giving her a full smile now; she’d never seen it before.

“Pfffht, cheek!” she said, grabbing a Butterfinger and practically clamoring into his lap. She didn’t know what possessed her. She was waving the Butterfinger under his chin when he pulled her in for a kiss. “Oh,” Darcy sighed out. He was a great kisser. She tossed the Butterfinger to run her hand through his hair. He had great hair: thick and dark and soft under her fingers. 

“You dropped your weapon,” he said in a low voice. “Tactical error.”

“My bad,” Darcy admitted, blushing wildly. “What are you going to do if I’m unarmed?”

“What do you want me to do?” he said, voice intense.

“Well, umm,” Darcy said. She looked at him. “Kiss me some more?”

“I think I can do that,” he said in a wry voice. Darcy nodded, practically pulling him down on the bed with her. 

“Good,” she said. They were kissing when she realized she wanted him to stay. “Can I--?” Darcy asked, tugging gently at his t-shirt. “I’ve got condoms,” she added. She was surprised when he put his hands over hers, very gently. 

“You really wanna do this?” he said, expression turning serious. “I’ve got scars everywhere, sweetheart. Not everybody’s okay with that.”

“Well,” Darcy said slowly, “That’s fine with me, but I don’t usually have sex on a first date.”

“Yeah,” he said. She smiled, feeling naughty. 

“I guess I can make an exception for half dates?” Darcy said.

“A half date rule?” he said, smirking.

“Yes,” Darcy said, giggling. “Stop fretting. I’m taking your pants off now.” 

“Okay,” he said, holding his hands up in the surrender position. She felt smug--until she tried to follow through on her promise. It was difficult to undress a man who was so much heavier than her, but Darcy gave it an honest try. He laughed at her. “You need some help, baby?” he offered.

“These pants are like a trap,” Darcy groused. 

“Lemme help,” he said, shifting. He grinned. “And then I can take your clothes off.” 

“Okey dokey,” Darcy said. 

“You can get those condoms,” he said, clearly amused. 

“What?” she said.

“Your disappointed face is very cute,” he told her. 

“Yeah?” she said, with more confidence than she felt. Darcy was a tiny bit afraid she’d show some sign of nervousness when he undressed and didn’t want to hurt his feelings. She thought doing it herself would help her stay calmer. But to her surprise, he didn’t hesitate or show any trepidation. 

Also, he looked pretty great naked. 

“Did you just, uh, drool a little?” he said, laughing. She’d been touching him, feeling awestruck by the muscles under his scars. He’d said it didn’t hurt when she asked if she could.

“No,” Darcy said, blushing again. “I just--I just swallowed.”

“Yeah?” he said, a gleam in his eye.

“Oh God, I made it worse!” she said. He nodded, smirking.

“C’mere, baby,” Brock told her, pulling her close. He kissed the tip of her nose and then laughingly rolled her onto her back. 

“Brock, I, um--”

“Yeah?” he said softly. A strand of his hair brushed her forehead.

“I really like you,” Darcy said. She didn’t know why she wanted to say it, but she had to.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” he said, voice wry. “I don’t generally shop for candy with women who can’t stand me.”

“Ughhh, smart aleck,” she grumbled, ruffling his hair. He laughed.

“I’m pretty far past like, sweetheart,” he said intently, before leaning down to kiss her again. He was very playful and sarcastic in bed, Darcy discovered, as his hands trailed over her body, along with his mouth.

“Yeah?” she said, craning her chin to look at him. “You like me?” She was fishing for compliments. Who cared if it was shallow?

“Sure. You’ve got lots of good qualities,” he said, face between her breasts, “but you’ve got these, too, so it’s really hard to decide which thing’s my favorite.” He smirked when she laughed. Then he tried to make her really lose it. She was shrieking and giggling as he tickled and kissed down her body. 

“Oh my God, Brock,” she said, stuttering a little as he ran his tongue down one of her inner thighs.

“Keep saying that,” he said warmly, shifting his weight to tuck her leg over his shoulder.

“O--okay,” Darcy said. “Ohhhhh.” 

* * *

  
  


“This was a really good half date, even if that’s a little weird,” Darcy said, when she woke up in the morning. He’d been watching her sleep and rubbing her back.

“You’re calling me weird?” he said, grinning. “You’ve got a jar that says happy moments next to your bed?”

“That is a legitimate happiness technique,” she said, mock-offended. “I write down good things that happen.”

“I better be in there,” he said. 

“Did you want me to write down _had sex with Brock_?” she asked teasingly. “Because I totally will.”

“Yeah?” he said, smiling in a way that she realized meant he was happy. 

“Give me the little paper strips and my pen,” Darcy said, pretending to be officious. She was writing it down as he peered at her. “Anything else?” she asked.

“You don’t have anything for today,” he said, kissing her playfully. 

  
  



	8. The Word of the Day is Curiosare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_Activity #1: Curiosity and Interest in the World_

_Ask question in class_

_Discover new places_

_Explore the stacks in the library; browse widely, or pick an interesting looking book each day, and spend 20 minutes skimming it._

_Eat something new that you never otherwise would have tried_

_Go to a meeting or hear a speaker_

  
  


“This is amazing,” Jane said, opening her sunshine box with a smile. “It’s so bright! I love it!”

“Yay!” Darcy said, clapping. “Guess what else we’re doing today?”

“You don’t have plans with Brock?” Jane whispered. Brock was in the kitchen. He’d volunteered to make pancakes for them, even though he didn’t eat them. He drank--Darcy shuddered at the thought--protein breakfast shakes that he carried in his car. 

“He’s got to do a training thing, so you and I can do some exciting things,” Darcy said, grinning. “Jane Meredith Foster, you’re going to the happiest place on Earth!”

“You’re taking her to Disney?” Brock called from the kitchen. Darcy saw Jane frown and suppressed her own grin.

“Pfffht,” Darcy said, “of course not. I’m taking her to the library!”

“Oh good,” Jane said, visibly relieved. “I was worried for a second.”

“You don’t like Disney?” Brock said, bringing two plates to the table. Darcy smiled at him and he winked at her.

“Thor puked on her shoes after we went on the rollercoasters at AdventureWorld,” Darcy explained, stabbing her pancake with a fork. “Mmmmm,” she said. “Good.”

“Thank you,” he said. 

“It was bad,” Jane said, staring off into middle distance, clearly reliving the trauma. “Bad.” Brock looked stunned.

“Really?” he said. 

“He’d eaten too many of those cheese on a stick thingies,” Darcy told him.

“I had toss my favorite sneakers,” Jane said, lifting her fork to eat. Darcy giggled.

“He tossed his cheese, she tossed her sneakers,” she joked.

“Don’t,” Jane said. “I still need time. They were purple!”

“Okey dokey,” Darcy said. She reached over and took Brock’s hand. “C’mere, lemme sit in your lap,” she asked him, standing so he could sit in her chair.

“Sure,” he said. She plopped down happily and started eating again.

“These are jar worthy pancakes,” she said, turning her head to kiss his jaw. “Ooooh, I got syrup on you!”

“That’s all right,” he said. 

* * *

  
  


Jane loved the library. She was happily in the sciences stacks when Darcy wandered over to the shelves with travel books. She was always looking for fun places to go whenever they traveled for Jane’s conferences. “Oooh,” she said, plucking a book from the shelf. It was a book about Italy. Brock had been telling her about taking his mother to Sicily last summer during breakfast. He’d had photos on his phone. It sounded wonderful. Darcy studied the shelves thoughtfully. What if she--but no, it might be strange, she thought, sighing. Darcy didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. Or like she was rushing things between them. “It’s new,” she said aloud, more to herself. A passing library patron gave her a funny look. “Sorry!” Darcy called. “I get excited about free books.” The woman laughed. 

Jane found her in the foreign languages twenty minutes later. 

“I thought you’d find me--what are you looking at?” she asked. Darcy had her hands on an audioplayer you could check out to learn foreign languages. 

“Is it weird if I get stuff about learning Italian?” she asked Jane.

“Why would it be weird?” Jane said.

“Because Brock took his mom to Sicily last year, so I seem like I’m pushing for him to take me?” Darcy said.

“So?” Jane said. “You’ve been obsessed with the Italy part of _Eat Pray Love_ for years,” she told Darcy. “You always said that eating gelato was more fun than praying or dating.”

“That’s true,” Darcy said, taking the player fully off the shelf. “I’m ready. I’ll just tell him that.” Jane snorted. “What?” Darcy said.

“He told you the Sicily story as a humblebrag,” Jane said wryly.

“What?” Darcy said, following her to the self-checkout stations. “He doesn’t humblebrag!”

“Well, okay, not a humblebrag, then. He was trying to impress you with pancakes and fancy trips with mom stories,” Jane said. “That’s what I mean.”

“You hush,” Darcy said. She looked at the audioplayer. “Where is your library barcode?” she mused out loud, turning it over in her hands.

“Ask it in Italian,” Jane joked.

* * *

“You’ve really never had Vietnamese?” Brock asked her, as they scanned their menus. He’d suggested a place in Virginia called Rice Paper for their first, official date when she said she’d never had Vietnamese. Going to a new place was on Darcy’s list.

“Nope,” Darcy admitted. “This is exciting. What should I get?” 

“Uhhh, you eat meat, right?” he asked, frowning in thought. When she nodded yes, he relaxed. “Get Gỏi Cuốn,” he said. “They’re spring rolls with pork and shrimp, but not fried.”

“Okay,” Darcy said. “Why don’t you order for both of us? Surprise me?” 

“You want me to order for you?” he said, eyebrows raised. When she smiled brightly, he shook his head. “Seriously?” he said. 

“Why not?” she asked.

“I’m funny about my food,” he said. “I’d never let somebody order for me.” 

“Oh, c’mon!” Darcy said. He shook his head again, expression comically appalled. “You really wouldn’t?”

“Lemme explain some things,” Brock said seriously. He scanned the menu. “Okay, gỏi technically means salad, but it’s not a lettuce salad or something like that. It’s maybe cabbage or green mango slices with meat and peanuts and, uh, other things.”

“Which one is your favorite?” she asked.

“I like, uh, the beef salad. But you like noodles, yeah?” he asked.

“How’d you know?” she asked. 

“The four boxes of angel hair in your pantry,” Brock joked. Darcy was laughing when she saw another restaurant patron stare at him from behind, elbowing her companion and pointing to him. Their expressions made Darcy’s heart hurt. She felt immediately sick--and angry. “Darcy?” he said.

“Yeah?” she said, hoping he’d missed it. He’d said a few things about people responding oddly to his scars, but this was the first one she’d witnessed.

“You okay?” Brock said. Darcy swallowed.

“Yeah, I’m just hungry. Tell me about noodles,” she said, trying for breezy. 

“All right,” he said definitively, “bún is a kind of rice noodle. You can get it with different kinds of meat. Pork. I like the lemongrass beef, the pork, or the lemon chicken." 

“Oookay,” Darcy said, scanning the menu. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the woman who’d pointed at Brock go into the ladies’ room. “Why don’t you order some wine? I like white,” she suggested. “I’m going to the ladies room.”

“Sure,” he said.

Darcy was waiting for the woman when she came out of a stall. “I saw that,” she told her, shaking a little--Darcy couldn’t tell if she was shaking because she was nervous or angry or both. She’d never confronted someone like this. Jane was the one who usually yelled at people. “It was incredibly rude,” Darcy added. 

“Excuse me?” the woman said. But she looked nervous, too.

“You pointed at my date,” Darcy said. She regretted the quaver in her voice. It made her feel weak and stupid. What she wouldn’t give for Jane’s righteous indignation and steady voice right now. “You pointed and called attention to him. He happens to be a person. A great person.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman said, seeming not very sorry at all. 

“Thank you,” Darcy said flatly, moving so the woman could leave the bathroom. The door shut with a clang. She was fairly certain she’d gotten a half-hearted apology because she was standing in front of the exit. Alone, she had to take a few shaky breaths before she felt safe to rejoin Brock. He looked up as she slid into her chair. “Hey,” she said, smiling. She hoped it seemed natural. 

“I ordered wine,” he said sliding a glass towards her.

“Thank you,” she said, reaching for the glass. She was taking her first sip when he looked at her gently.

“You want to tell me what happened with the woman in the bathroom?” he asked.

“Shit,” Darcy said, feeling totally busted. To her surprise, he laughed. “I kinda yelled at her for staring at you,” she confessed. “A little. I’m not used to doing that. It’s usually Jane’s job--”

“Sweetheart,” he cut in. “You can’t let people do that to you. Just ignore it, okay? I learned this the hard way.”

“But--” Darcy stuttered, as the appetizers arrived. She got quiet as the waiter sat down a plate. Her spring rolls. They were oddly beautiful. You could see through them. Pink shrimp wrapped in translucent rice sheets. She let her gaze go back to Brock.

“You gotta let it go, okay?” he said seriously. She didn’t want him to be upset.

“All right,” she said. He studied her with a strange expression. Darcy swallowed nervously. “Okay. I won’t yell at people in the bathroom. Even if they’re rude bitches.” That got Brock to smile.

“Good,” he said. “Try the Gỏi Cuốn rolls, huh?”

“I’m totally taking a photo of these first,” Darcy said, nodding. “They’re neat-looking. The shrimp are so pretty!” 

“They taste pretty good, too,” he said. 

“They do,” Darcy said, when she’d had some. Then she confessed that she wanted to learn Italian and told him about her library finds. “No pressure on you, though. I don’t want that to be weird. I’ve just always wanted to go to Venice,” she added.

“Why would that be pressure on me?” he said, looking befuddled. 

“Like I was angling for a romantic trip?” she said softly. He grinned. 

“I’m not easily influenced,” he joked. 

“Pfffhht,” she said.

“So you do want one?” Brock asked, expression intent.

“No! I have a word for today, though,” she said. “I like curiosare,” she said. It meant browsing, like when you were shopping. She'd read it in her library guide.

“You like snooping?” he said, face lighting up.

“I thought it was shopping!” Darcy said. “Not snooping. Are you making that up?”

“Would I make something up to tease you?” he said, looking exactly like he would.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said. “I’m going to look up names to call you,” she said back. He laughed.

“Go ahead, cipollina,” he said.

“What’s that mean?” she asked, but he wouldn’t tell her. He looked smug about it, so she was sure it was naughty. They were eating when he chuckled to himself. “What?” Darcy said. She was on her second glass of wine; he’d picked a good sauvignon blanc that tasted like tropical fruit. Brock grinned at her. 

“It took me six months, once I’d finished the Crossbones work”--he’d stolen things back from HYDRA under the identity of a scarred, unstable merc and given them to SHIELD, he’d explained--”to stop confronting people in public, so I could yell at them,” Brock told her, leaning in slightly. 

“Yeah?” Darcy said, feeling a smidge less guilty.

“Fury was sort of upset about the number of guys’ noses that I broke,” he said dryly, poking at the beef in his clay pot. His eyes gleamed. 

“Ohhhhhh,” Darcy said, waving her bún noodle-wrapped fork. “The truth emerges!”

“But you can’t live that way,” he said, more quietly. “It makes you pissed off all the fucking time. I been trying to get past that, be calmer and more neutral. I tried meditation and working out,” he said. She nodded. “It was sort of so so until--” he said, gesturing. He licked his scar-edged mouth and paused.

“Until what?” Darcy said. He smiled then.

“I met a girl,” he said. “Then I thought I could even be happy.”

  
  



	9. Awful Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_Activity #15: Leadership_

  1. _Organize something special for your friends or suitemates one evening._
  2. _Organize a study group_



  
  


Darcy was scrutinizing the Golden acrylics in the craft store when Brock came up and put candy and a coloring book in her basket. “What’s that?” she said, grinning. He’d jokingly borrowed one of her knit hats for the errand, claiming his ears were cold. She thought he just liked staying at her and Jane’s apartment, instead of going home. He’d been with her all week.

“Presents for you,” he said. “Found them by the register.”

“This is a party for Steve and Bucky,” she reminded him, half-seriously. Darcy and Jane had decided the duo needed a party, when they realized both of them were seriously party-deprived. So, they were throwing a shindig. She had Jane finding Bucky something science-y in the kids’ section, while she got Steve an art present. Brock shrugged and put his arms around her shoulders, resting his chin on her hair. “Are you just not gonna respond to me?” she teased, tilting her chin up.

“Nope,” he said. His serious expression was at odds with the blue pom-pom on top of her hat. She grinned.

“Somebody told me Golden paint was the best,” she said to Brock. “What colors are the best, though?”

“Uh...absolutely no idea, sweetheart,” he said, squeezing her. 

“Cut it out,” she said. “No getting amorous with me until I’ve made a decision.” She tried to sound stern.

“Amorous?” he said.

“It’s in a song. Probably Cole Porter,” Darcy said. “Help me pick some paint for Steve and then we can go make out in the yarn.” 

“Not the flowers?” he asked, grinning.

“God, no. Silk plants are kinda creepy,” Darcy said.

“Red, blue, yellow,” Brock said suddenly. “You can make any color with those three, right?”

“You’ve been holding out on me!” Darcy said, turning to tap his chest scoldingly. “You did know.”

“I just remembered,” he said, “I swear.” He leaned towards her and she slipped around him to put paints in the basket. “Hey--” he said.

“We should probably get black and white, too,” Darcy said, dodging his second attempted kiss with a laugh. He got her cheek. “And some brushes.” Darcy dodged Brock until there were a few more items for Steve in the basket. 

“That’s all?” he asked. She grinned and slowly dropped the basket. 

“Hey,” she said, turning to face him.

“Yeah?” Brock said. She reached up to adjust her cap on his brow.

“You look cute in my hat,” she told him. “Berretto?” She didn’t know the Italian word for that kind of hat. “Is there a special name?” she wondered.

“No idea,” he said, smirking. They were kissing when Jane rounded the aisle. 

“There you are,” she said. “I got Bucky a robot kit and a telescope.”

“Good,” Darcy said, pulling away from Brock. “Thank you, Jane.”

“Yarn?” Brock said warmly, breath on her ear.

“Nope,” Darcy said. “I just remembered! Baking aisle! We need a cake.” 

“Damn,” Brock muttered.

“What’s in the yarn?” Jane asked, sounding curious.

“Kissing,” Darcy said, towing Brock along by the hand. “You’re very patient,” she told him. “Jane, will you drive so I can make out with Brock in the backseat?” she asked.

“Yes,” Jane said, laughing, “but no smacking noises.”

“She takes all my fun,” Brock said, pretending to complain. Darcy laughed. They scanned the baking supply aisle.

“Ooooh,” Darcy said, leaning against him. “We should do a round cake with Steve’s shield! Red velvet?” She looked at Brock. “Steve eats chocolate, right?”

“Yeah. Why?” he asked.

“Red velvet is cocoa and food coloring,” Darcy explained.

“There’s chocolate in red velvet?” Brock said.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, grinning at him. 

“He’s so innocent,” Jane joked.

“That’s why he needs me, really,” Darcy said. “A severe case of cake deprivation.” They googled Cap-inspired cakes and found a photo of one that she and Jane liked. She had round pans, so Darcy got extra star tips for the frosting design. “Okay,” she told Brock, as they left the store, “backseat, Agent Hot Stuff.”

“Commander Hot Stuff,” he said, letting her pretend to shove him into the car. He laughed when she made loud smacking noises as Jane drove. 

* * *

“How did you get cake frosting on your nose?” Brock said in an astonished voice, when Darcy crawled into bed that night. He’d wrapped the gifts while she and Jane baked the cake. 

“I don’t know,” Darcy said, smiling as he kissed her face gently. “I’m so tired!” she said, yawning. “Sorry, I just yawned in your face, babe. That was a two-tier cake yawn.”

“You need to rest more,” he said. 

“Phfffft,” Darcy said. He looked at her and then frowned. “What?” she said.

“I’m going to make you take better care of yourself,” he scolded. 

“Okay,” Darcy said. “After this party, you can make me nap more.” She curled up against him. Then she opened her eyes. “We’re doing that together, right?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Barring international incidents,” she said sleepily. A moment later, she opened her eyes. She’d remembered something. “S’wonderful.”

“Huh?” he said.

“That’s the amorous song from the craft store,” Darcy said. “S’wonderful.” She smiled at him, eyes half open. “I remembered, it was in an Audrey Hepburn movie,” she added, yawning again. "Remind me to put a note in the jar about today."

“Okay,” he said, looking amused. 

“You’re wonderful,” she said, eyes closed. “Fool around with me?”

“Now?” he said. 

“Yeah,” she said, reaching for his clothes. “Definitely.” She fumbled around sleepily, giggling, as she undressed him. 

“Honey,” he said, tilting his chin down to watch her. He sounded torn between amusement and frustration. “You don’t--”

“Shhh,” she said, gesturing with her index finger. He shook his head. “You’re very cute,” she told him, pressing her mouth to his scarred clavicle and then wiggling down. “Here.” She could feel his chest rise and fall as she kissed his sternum. “And here.” She used a little more pressure against his abs, lingering as he breathed in and out slowly. For a minute, she rested her face against him. She was taking her time. There was no rush. He petted her hair as it hung over his stomach, rolling the ends of the curls between his fingers. Darcy lifted herself up again. “There, too,” she whispered, sliding his zipper down. She couldn’t see his expression--her hair was in the way--but she heard his deep sigh. 

  
  


* * *

Postmodern Jukebox was covering “Wannabe” in the style of the Andrews Sisters when Steve came over to thank Darcy for the party. “This is great party,” he said. “Buck likes the food, too.” Across the room, Bucky was tucking into a plate of kung pao with a delighted grin. In the middle of the table, she and Jane’s red velvet shield cake took pride of place. They’d done red, white, and blue frosting. Steve had seemed impressed.

“I thought you deserved it. We went with a things that weren’t delivered in 1945 theme,” Darcy joked. She’d just ordered pizza, Chinese, and Thai to go along with the cake. “Hey, Steverini, is it true that nobody drank wine back in the day?” she asked. Her glass of wine was empty.

“You know, I think I only ever saw wine in church,” Steve said. “Huh. Hadn’t thought of that. Most everybody drank liquor, not wine. How’d you know?”

“Nora Ephron wrote about it in an essay,” Darcy explained. “She also gave me the delivery food idea. I can’t imagine. No pizza and everybody drank scotch? No wonder midcentury marriages were so bad,” she said. Steve grinned. 

“That and other reasons,” he said slyly, eyes drifting to Bucky. Darcy wiggled her eyebrows at Steve. He grinned.

“You’re very cute together,” she said.

“Since about nineteen thirty-eight,” he said cheerfully. Darcy laughed.

“Cap,” Brock said, coming over with a glass of wine for her.

“Rumlow,” Steve said.

“Thank you, baby,” Darcy said, tucking herself against Brock. “He wrapped your presents, Steve, if you can’t tell. Those perfect corners are all him. I can’t fold a fitted sheet, either. I’m not a witch,” Darcy joked. The presents were on another table. Steve laughed. She knew he was into memes now. 

“I appreciate your perfect corners,” Steve said in a dry voice.

“Thanks, Cap,” Brock said.

“He has all kinds of nice angles,” Darcy said, reaching behind Brock with a grin.

“I heard that,” Steve said. “Jane says you appreciate him a whole lot. Just about twenty-four-seven.”

“I have no idea what any of you are talking about,” Brock said, with mock innocence. Darcy squeezed his left cheek. He cut his eyes at her and she winked. 

“Sure,” Steve said.

“The Buckaroo’s hair tinsel is holding up good,” Darcy added. She could see the blue strands glinting in his ponytail. He waved at her. She waved back with her wine glass.

“It’s surprisingly sturdy,” Steve said in casual voice.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Postmodern Jukebox version of Wannabe is excellent: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9jGGiqjwf4


	10. Jane Wanted The Penguin Because of That Science Meme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_Activity #10: Zest, Enthusiasm, and Energy_

  1. _Go out of your way to become more involved in an organization you are already a part of_
  2. _Take up a greater interest in one of your classes, i.e. volunteer for a class activity_
  3. _Do something because you want to, not because you are told._
  4. _Get a good night’s sleep and eat a good breakfast, to give yourself more energy during the day._
  5. _Do something physically vigorous in the morning (e.g., jog, push-ups)_



“Why is Lewis circulating electronic flyers in my agency?” Fury asked Hill as they walked through SHIELD’s halls. The digital screens in the building flashed pastel colors briefly before returning to their usual displays of meetings and policies. Fury caught a glimpse of animals at the edges of the flyers: elephants, tigers, several monkeys, zebras, even a turtle.

“It’s a morale-building exercise,” Hill said. “She and Foster decided to symbolically adopt a penguin from one of those endangered wildlife organizations and make it their lab mascot--”

“A penguin?” Fury said.

“There was a commercial about adopting a polar bear,” Hill said. “But apparently, you can adopt different kinds of animals, so they chose a penguin. You get a stuffed animal and a little certificate for your donation. Then STRIKE Alpha decided to adopt a honey badger--”

“A what?” Fury said.

“To be honest, I’m not sure, sir. But there’s a meme about it being fearless to the point of insanity and apparently, it’s Rumlow’s favorite animal,” she explained.

“Of course it is,” Fury said. “I’m surprised it’s not Rogers’ favorite.”

“Oh, no, Rogers and Barnes adopted a pair of otters,” Hill said. “There was a general rush for everyone to get their own animals.” She swiped her tablet screen. “There’s an open list, so everyone can see the mascots. Tango adopted a lion, Epilson picked a Hammerhead shark, Foxtrot just got the red fox, the Archives folks are adopting an elephant--"

“Fitting,” Fury said. Hill was scanning her screen. 

“---oh, I think Romanoff adopted a hawk for Barton,” she added. 

“Huh,” Fury said. He scowled as they walked. “This is good for morale?”

“People are very excited. Most of Legal has it’s own koala family now,” she told him.

“Most of Legal?” Fury repeated.

“Jim Reynolds thought it would be funny to adopt a snake, since he’s a lawyer,” Hill said. “He’s telling everyone it’s his personal mascot.”

“Lawyer jokes,” Fury said coolly. He looked straight ahead. Maria waited a beat. “Are there any cats no one has picked?” he asked.

“Ocelot. The clouded leopard,” Hill said. “The serval, too.”

“Three different cats. How could anyone choose?”

“The clouded leopard is very beautiful,” she said. He nodded. “And it hunts by dropping down onto it’s prey from trees,” Hill said. “Using the element of surprise.”

“I like it,” Fury said. “Hill, adopt me a clouded leopard.”

“Already done, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That moment when Frank Grillo picked the honey badger: https://jimshawkins.co.vu/post/123905161478/wintersthighs-can-we-say-honey-badger-yes-we?route=%2Fpost%2F%3Aid%2F%3Asummary
> 
> Symbolic wildlife adoptions! https://gifts.worldwildlife.org/gift-center/gifts/Species-Adoptions.aspx


	11. Magari!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing! But do read Susan Orlean. She's _wonderful._

“What are we doing?” Darcy said, when she woke up on Saturday morning. Brock had spent the night. He grinned at her.

“Whatever you want,” he said.

“Okay--” 

“Wait, hold on, I amend that, whatever you want that doesn’t require you to run around,” he said. “You oughta relax a little.” He had been fussing that she worked too much, with all her lab hours, plus her fun projects, and their Italian lessons (mostly excuses to make out surrounded by flashcards and books, academic progress so-so, or  _ così così;  _ Brock had also taught her the Sicilian dialect version,  _ menza menza _ , or half and half).

“You are telling me I need to relax a little? You spend two hours in the gym every single day,” Darcy said mirthfully. “You?” She pretended to make a face at him and poked at his bare chest. He laughed.

“All right,” he said. “Two for one deal. You rest today, I rest today,” he said. He offered his hand to shake solemnly. When they shook on it, Darcy giggled. 

“I’m going to spend all day in bed,” she said.

“Sounds good to me,” he said, expression pleased.

“Resting,” she added. “Sex counts as an exhausting activity. So exhausting.” She stressed the last word with a grin.

“Shit,” he said. “Did I play myself?” Darcy beamed at him, nodding widely.

“Mmm-hmmm.”

“Damn.” He looked thoughtful, then brightened. “What about Italian?” he bargained. He looked like a man discovering a contract loophole. There was a distinctly crafty expression on his face.

“Magari!” she said, laughing. It was her new favorite Italian expression. It meant “I hope so!” Darcy leaned over and brushed her lips against his scarred forehead. “I’ll need coffee in here first,” she said happily. He was smiling at her. She kissed his nose, then each cheekbone, and finally, his mouth. “But we don’t have to start the day just yet,” she said.

“Still last night?” he offered, voice low. 

“La notte--what’s the word for last?” she wondered. Then she started to laugh as he squeezed her, rolling Darcy on her back. They were both laughing and squirming as she shifted down his briefs. “Condom,” she sighed out, kissing his chin and sliding her hands down his back. Even with the deep scars from the building collapse, his body was strong and warm. But the thing she loved most was that he was so fun. Playful and easy to be with, she thought, as he moved. “Ooooh,” Darcy moaned. “That feels so good.”

“I know, I’m great in bed,” he said in her ear, laughing. When she tugged his hair in response, he blew a raspberry against her neck. Darcy shrieked and wiggled. Which felt great.

“Uhhhh,” she gasped out, half-delighted, half-ticklish. He nuzzled her face, rocking slowly. “I love you,” she said, the words stumbling out accidentally. For a fraction of a second, she was afraid. She made eye contact nervously. He was beaming.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, blushing.

“Love you,” he murmured, mouth against her cheekbone. She could feel his smile, too.

* * *

“Hey, girl who loves me,” Brock said, leaning into the bedroom doorway in his sweatpants. “Did you want another coffee?” He kept calling her that. It made her feel oddly giddy. They’d both put notes in her happiness jar.

“Yes, please,” Darcy said. She’d spent the day in bed, reading and eating and drinking coffee. Occasionally kissing. They’d decided not to leave the apartment. Or he had. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to leave the bed for anything more serious than snacks or the bathroom. He didn’t want her working in the living room with Jane or answering work emails. It wasn’t too difficult, really. “Can I read you a line?” Darcy said. They’d invented a game of reading each other book lines that they really liked. Or bits of facts from the news.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. 

“Susan Orlean,  _ The Orchid Thief,”  _ Darcy said. 

“Uh-huh,” he said teasingly. She’d been reading that all day, finding little gems she liked. 

“You hush,” Darcy said, clearing her throat. Then she read aloud, trying not to let her voice go squeaky since she was being watched:

_ “The world is so huge that people are always getting lost in it. There are too many ideas and things and people, too many directions to go. I was starting to believe that the reason it matters to care passionately about something is that it whittles the world down to a more manageable size. It makes the world seem not huge and empty but full of possibility.” _

She looked up at him. He was gazing back at her with an ambiguous expression. “Isn’t that great?” Darcy said. “Full of possibility.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It is.” 


	12. Another Glorious Evening....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“Hey!” Darcy said, when she opened the door. Cameron Klein smiled at her. He smiled more widely when she yelled “Cam’s here!” over the music. The music that was….was it the Monster Mash? It sounded like the Monster Mash.

“What’s going on?” Cam asked, looking around the room quizzically. He’d been invited over for what Darcy described as a “little shindig, very chill, if you want to bring something, bring candy.” To his surprise, Darcy and Jane’s living room was strung with orange lights, spider webs, and fluttering dark cut-outs that drifted in the ceiling fans. “I brought Snickers,” Cam said. “Are those Halloween decorations?”

“Awesome! Yup,” Darcy said. “A few years ago, I started doing Christmas in July, just so I could watch Christmas movies and force Jane to drink hot chocolate and maybe buy me a gift and that became a thing, so then we decided if we were going to do Christmas in July, we really needed a Halloween in May, too.”

“Cool,” Cam said. He gave her the Snickers bag.

“Cam, you’re the best, I love Snickers,” Darcy said. “Also, Captain America is coming.”

“Oh, wow, really?” Cam said.

“He’s never seen _Hocus Pocus,”_ Darcy said solemnly. “We had to fix that.” She led him over to the dining table, which had been set up with bowls of candy. “Also, Brock splurged and bought the big tins of popcorn. Cheese, butter, and caramel,” she said. “He’s pretty perfect.”

“You’re totally marrying him, aren’t you?” Cam joked, fishing a beer bottle out of a cooler under the table. To his surprise, Darcy tilted her chin down and grinned with something like bashfulness.

“Well....I wouldn’t mind,” she said, “but don’t say anything, I don’t want him to freak out!” Across the room, Rumlow was talking to Thor. She actually looked nervous. 

“I’m your secret keeper,” Cam said. She nodded, as he glanced at the beer in his hand. “Pumpkin Wheat?” he said.

“It’s really good, don’t sleep on it,” Darcy said. She leaned in to whisper. “Thor loves them, so they go fast.”

“Gotcha,” he said.

“Sharon’s here,” Darcy said. Cam had been nursing a little thing for Sharon for ages.“So, if you want to sit next to her…”

“Don’t go all Natasha on me,” Cam grumbled. “Am I that obvious?”

“You sort of look at her the way that Thor looks at Oreos, but I’m sure no one’s noticed,” Darcy said comfortingly.

“She used to date Cap! I get all sweaty whenever I think about asking her out,” he confided. The music changed and he looked for Darcy’s speakers. “What is that?” he wondered out loud.

“Oh, I found a vintage playlist online,” she said. “I’m sure Sharon would---”

“Shh, she’s coming over,” Cam said, panicking. Sharon was crossing the room, smiling. 

“Hi,” she said.

“Uh, hi,” Cam said, feeling himself blush. 

“I’m going to take Thor a beer,” Darcy said. “Cam brought Snickers.”

"Great!" Sharon said. Neither of them seemed to notice when Darcy left.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's retro Halloween playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ColqqmE-0qM
> 
> Chapter inspired by this image @chrissihr posted today:


	13. Happiness is...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

_[It’s] not fixed, or binary. You can be a little bit happy, or happy but still melancholy, or not happy but somehow content. I used to think it was an either-or state. Now I know, that at least for me, there is a huge range of variation. And often just waiting out a non-happy state will bring me to something better. -Debora Spar_

Darcy was in bed in her pajamas on Saturday when there was a knock at the door. “Sweetheart?” Brock called. 

“Brock?” she said, half-asleep and startled. She sat up slowly and turned on the light, as he opened the door and stuck his head in. “Hi,” Darcy said, “I was asleep.” She’d been feeling a little down all day. They usually made plans on Saturdays, but he’d been gone on a mission on Friday and she hadn’t said anything, hoping her lousy mood would improve by the time he was back in town. He didn’t need her burdening him with her sads.

“Yeah, Jane said you were tired,” he said, stepping inside. “I brought you some snacks.” He was carrying several bags. 

“Oh,” Darcy said, “thank you.” She smiled weakly.

“What’s wrong, Darcy?” he said, sitting on the bed. “I haven’t heard from you since Thursday. You mad at me or something--?” He’d frowned so much that his scars twisted and he looked genuinely anxious.

“No,” she said, more forcefully. “Not at all.”

“Because if I did something,” he began, “you can--hey.” She’d sort of panic-hugged his neck, squishing the bags. They crinkled. Darcy sighed heavily.

“It’s _not_ you,” she told him. She pulled back to look at his face, then felt self-conscious and looked at his neck instead. “Sometimes, I just feel--I dunno, down--and I don’t like to bug people with my sads. So, I _hide_ a little. And take naps and watch movies, then once I feel better, I go out and see people again, you know?” She glanced up at him. “I wouldn’t want to bring you down, just cause I’m feeling mopey and not happy.”

“Baby,” he said softly. He nuzzled her face, bumping her glasses playfully. “You don’t have to be happy all the time.”

“Oh,” Darcy said, feeling intense relief. “Good.” He kissed her lightly and she cringed. “I’ve got coffee breath,” she told him.

“Don’t care,” Brock said. He grinned at her. “Let me get in bed with you. You wanna see your snacks and surprises?”

“Yes,” Darcy said, as she wiggled over and he climbed in with her. She didn’t know why she felt fractionally better, just talking to him, but she did.

“All right,” he said. “I got you special Cheez-Its, ‘cause I know you like those. Four Cheese Italian,” he stressed playfully.

“Because you know I like that,” Darcy said, grinning. He continued unpacking bags.

“Movie theater butter popcorn,” he said, taking out a bag that was printed with an old-fashioned movie theater marquee.

“Oooh,” Darcy said.

“And candy popcorn,” he said, taking out a second bag of popcorn with chocolate drizzle. 

“Double ooh,” she said. 

“The Halloween candy’s out. Chocolate and, uh, Skittles,” he said, taking out a bag of mixed fun size candy. “What the hell is a Skittle?”

“A Skittle,” Darcy said seriously, “is a rainbow of flavor.” That made him crack up. “These are all great,” she told him, leaning against his shoulder.

“Also, I went to the bath and body place and got you these,” he said, opening another bag. “That’s the one you liked, right? Marshmallow Pumpkin Latte?” He’d bought her lotion and a big candle. This was her favorite scent. He must’ve noticed the stuff in her bathroom.

“Yes,” Darcy said. “You went to a Bath and Body Works?” There was something else in the bag.

“The saleswoman talked me into this--I thought it would make you laugh,” he said, unwrapping the last, heaviest item. It was a candleholder with a crystal ball--filled with bats and decorated with spiders--at the base. 

“Oh my God, you made my Addams Family childhood dreams come true,” Darcy said, delighted. She’d joked with him about her childhood goth phase. She was working up the nerve to show him the pictures. He might be ready for her with dyed black hair, over-tweezed eyebrows, and eggplant colored lipstick eventually. Brock grinned at her wryly.

“I thought I was in trouble,” he said. 

“Noooo,” Darcy said, ducking her head against his shoulder again and kissing the fabric of his shirt.. “You’re never in trouble. Ever.”

“The bats are supposed to move around. You want me to set it up with your candle?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. She watched him quietly as he got up, took all the packaging off the candleholder, and put it on her dresser. 

“You got matches?” Brock asked, looking over his shoulder. “Eat some of your candy.”

“We’ve got a lighter thingy in the kitchen,” Darcy said, “I’ll get it.” She shuffled out in her bedroom slippers and saw Jane on the couch. "Hey, tiny genius," Darcy said.

“Hey,” Jane said. She leaned closer to Darcy, whispering. “I know you were feeling down, but he made sad faces at me and I had to let him in.” Jane knew how Darcy liked to be alone.

“It’s okay,” Darcy said. “He thought I was upset with him! He got a bunch of snacks and went to the Bath and Body Works! He got me candles and the world’s most Morticia candle holder, I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“Awww,” Jane said. 

“I’m getting the lighter thing,” Darcy said, snagging it and a beer for Brock. She carried them back into the bedroom. He’d set up the candle on the holder. The bats swirled around gently. “Ahhh, it’s so cute,” she said, passing him the bottle. “I got you a beer?”

“Thank you, baby,” Brock said. He lit the wicks and they stood there for a second. “What do you normally do when you feel like this? Feel down, I mean?” he asked in a quiet voice. Darcy looked up from where she was leaning against him.

“I, um, lie in bed and eat snacks and condition my hair and watch movies,” she explained. “Or old TV shows that don’t cause me stress. Comfort TV. Sometimes, I do face masks,” she admitted. 

“Okay,” Brock said. “Let’s do that.”

“Seriously?” Darcy said. “You want to eat candy in bed and put on face masks?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“I’m very secure in my masculinity, sweetheart,” he said, smirking. “Besides, can’t I want to be beautiful?”

“You _are_ beautiful,” she said with a sigh. “Really beautiful.” He scrunched his nose.

“I just feel like my hair’s a little dry and I might need to take better care of myself,” he said in a teasing voice.

“Okay,” Darcy said. “Come with me. I think your hair needs protein.”

“My hair likes protein, too, huh?”

“Yup,” she told him.

* * *

“That stuff you put in my hair smells good,” Brock said, as they debated what to watch and ate candy and popcorn. Well, she ate chocolate and he ate popcorn. Brock had a weakness for popcorn that was actually cute. Especially since he was covered in a green face mask. Her candleholder glowed in the darkened room.

“It’s a vanilla bean hair mask,” Darcy said, scrolling. “We could watch _Pushing Daisies,_ I miss that show. Cancelled too soon. I have it on DVD.”

“What’s it about?” Brock asked. 

“Guy has the power to wake the dead, he wakes his childhood crush, they’re in love, but they can’t ever touch, or she’ll be dead again,” Darcy explained, sipping her coffee. She’d felt chilly and he’d volunteered to make her some while she smeared a mask on her face. 

“Shit,” he said, frowning. “That sounds depressing.”

“I’m making it sound less fun than it is. They kiss through saran wrap, it’s adorable. Also, he owns a pie shop and uses his gift to solve crimes with a sarcastic detective,” Darcy said. She clicked the remote. “Ooh, _The Addams Family._ I loved that movie as a kid.”

“Let’s watch this one,” he said, tossing popcorn into his mouth.

“You’re very patient and accommodating,” Darcy said, grinning. “You let me put girly stuff in your hair and watch my favorite old movies?”

“I’m trying out your routine,” he said. “I feel better already.” He mimed tossing his hair back and she laughed. “You got enough coffee?” he asked.

“I’m good,” she said, starting the movie. Gomez and Morticia were kissing when she leaned over to say something. “You know what I love about this? It’s based on a cartoon, but the original TV show in the sixties was making fun of suburbia, so Gomez and Morticia actually _liked_ each other,” Darcy told him. “Like, the joke is most sixties married couples wouldn’t have been so affectionate and sexy with each other, they’d have been uptight and repressed.”

“Huh,” he said. 

“Also, the kids get to be unapologetically weird,” Darcy added. “I was a little bit of a weird kid.”

“Yeah?” Brock said. “You were, huh?”

“I might have wanted to be Wednesday. I wore lots of black and grey and dyed my hair eggplant-y colors,” she admitted, eating a candy bar. “You don’t think that’s weird?” She looked at him for a reaction. Ian had made fun of her for being a childhood nerd. But Brock was grinning. 

“Nope.”

“No?” she asked.

“I fucking love eggplant,” he said cheerfully. “You want some more popcorn?”

“Sure,” she said, leaning towards his bag. She paused. “Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” Brock asked, looking at her. Onscreen, Gomez was dueling with his accountant.

“For being so good to me,” Darcy said. “Even when I’m down. I’m mostly a happy person, but, uh--”

“Sweetheart,” he said, taking the remote and hitting pause, “you don’t need to apologize. Nobody is happy all the time. And I don’t expect you to be happy all the damn time.”

“Okay,” Darcy said.

“You’re probably the happiest woman I know, though,” he added. “What are you feeling so guilty about?” He looked at her curiously.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I guess I just got this idea when I was doing my happiness project that I could do things with my attitude, so I _ought_ to try to be happy all the time, you know?”

“Fuck that,” Brock said, with more than usual bluntness. “You aren’t obligated to be happy all the time. It’s okay if you feel lousy or tired or just like you like you wanna tell everyone off.”

“Okay,” she repeated.

“All right,” he said, nodding. He clicked the movie back on. “Good.” He paused. “We should get you a dress like that,” he said, smirking. He raked his eyes over her. “You’d look good.” His smirk grew wider.

“I’m definitely okay with that,” Darcy said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debora Spar interviewed by Gretchen Rubin: https://gretchenrubin.com/2020/08/debora-spar-author-interview
> 
> Kat Dennings talking about being a goth kid: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LErmLoc7W-k
> 
> The Water Globe Bat Pedestal: https://www.bathandbodyworks.com/p/water-globe-bat-pedestal-3-wick-candle-holder-026144339.html


	14. Happy Toast Day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

“What are we celebrating?” Brock asked, when Darcy brought a tray of food into the bedroom before work. He tried to mask his yawn. She must’ve snuck in coffee while he slept, he realized. His coffee was on the nightstand.

“February twenty-fifth is Toast Day!” Darcy said. “I bought all the jams. Strawberry, raspberry, raspberry with amaretto--”

“On a work day?” he said wryly.

“Nope, we’re not working today,” Darcy said. “Jane gave me the day off and you put in a request yesterday.”

“I did, huh?” Brock said, grinning. He felt his scars stretch.

“Someone using your clearance codes did,” Darcy said, setting down the tray with a slight clatter. “Especially since you’ve been gone twenty days in the last three weeks,” she added.

“I’m sorry I missed Valentine’s Day, baby,” he said. He’d had plans and then they hadn’t been together.

“It’s not the day, it’s that I miss you,” she said, clamoring into bed and kissing him. He had to grab the tray with a laugh around her kisses. “Whoops,” Darcy said. “My bad.” 

“I’ll forgive you,” he said. She got under the covers. “What are those?” he asked, looking at the line of tiny jam dishes next to all the toasted bread.

“Nutella, lemon curd, lime curd, and uh, cinnamon sugar butter,” Darcy said, relaxing back onto her pile of pillows. “What do you want to try first? I’d go for lemon curd, it’s kinda my jam.”

“Cute pun,” he said, obediently following her recommendation. He waited until she was happily munching on strawberry jam-coated toast and distracted by choosing some jazz music on her phone to slide the item out of his pocket and put it on her plate. Darcy had reached for another slice of toast when she saw it. 

“Brock?” she said, sounding stunned. Her voice had squeaked a little. “What’s that?”

“I’m not saying it’s an engagement ring, but I thought you’d like it,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. She’d shown him a meme once. “I mean, we can call it an engagement ring, if you want-- _oof.”_ She’d thrown her arms around him with a little squeal. 

“I love you,” Darcy said. “And I think we could call it that.”

“Yeah?” he said.

“I mean, there’s no rush to decide,” she said, beaming.

“We’ve got big plans with, uh, toast,” he replied.

“Yeah,” she said, not letting him go. 

“Our schedule’s kinda jam-packed,” he cracked. She burst out laughing.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sweeter, softer version of this inspiration image:


End file.
